Lights Go Down
by OnceUponASomeday
Summary: Two rings, one big problem.
1. Chapter 1

**I** **never seem to finish any of these stories, but I will, honest. In the meantime, another new one... and this one I WILL finish, by the time season 3 starts. Suvi - this title is in your honour, thanks for breaking my fragile heart time and again with your gloriously painful videos. Allow me to return the favour ;) Possibly not with this one, though Luke is in it, so... that's pretty painful in itself.**

She hadn't seen it coming. The night was a blur of noise and colour, the air thick and warm and alive with energy - hers as much as the fans'. It had been one of the best shows of her career, her veins humming with the kind of joy that only came when she was exactly where she was meant to be, exactly when she was meant to be there.

She'd shimmied across the stage, watching how the lights reflected off her dress and showered the first couple of rows in playful luminous flecks. Every note her band had played, every word that had spilled from her mouth had resonated right down to her toes, and more than once she'd felt the need to pinch herself.

She'd been completely caught off guard when Luke had fallen to one knee.

Her immediate thought - one she'd felt naive for later - was that he'd dropped something, but the cheers from the crowd had clued her in just quickly enough to save her from making a complete fool of herself. She'd almost thrown up right there on stage with the shock.

If it had felt like a long time to Luke waiting for her answer, it had felt like an eternity to her trying to find one to give. She'd squinted out into the crowd as though they would be able to help, but there was really only one option; the Queen of Country didn't disappoint seventy thousand fans in one fell swoop. And Luke, kneeling there looking up at her, full of hope and so uncharacteristically nervous - she couldn't embarrass him in front of all those people, and she didn't want to. The delight on his face when she'd accepted had made her happy; _he _made her happy.

But now there were no lights, there were no people. All was still, quiet. Rayna sat curled in a ball on the couch, her knees tucked up to her chest in the same position she'd stumbled into after Deacon had walked out the door and left her gripping the kitchen counter for dear life.

There was a lot about tonight she hadn't seen coming.

She felt better, maybe, in the shadows. It was easier to hide in the shadows - from other people... from herself. She was hiding from her phone, too. She'd heard it - albeit vaguely, she wasn't really concentrating - ring at least six times, and she knew every call was from Luke. Her new fiancé Luke. He'd want to talk to her, she knew, to be excited with her now his kids had gone to bed.

Seventy thousand fans, every one of them screaming. Her girls, down in the pit with Tandy and Teddy, all of them watching. And Deacon. Luke had asked her to marry him in front of Deacon.

The tabloids the next day were sure going to be interesting.

Rayna took a deep breath, the sound loud in the silence. The empty house was a limited reprieve - tomorrow all hell would break loose. Luke would be here early, her children back from Teddy's at lunchtime when he went to give a press conference at City Hall. Her sister would doubtless beeline for her as soon as she woke up, gushing over wedding plans: flowers, venues, a dress. A dress. God help her.

She shook her head back and forth, a feeble attempt to quiet her turmoil. Her left hand felt strange, too heavy, the equivalent of a down payment on a country mansion sitting cold and unfamiliar on her finger. She lifted it up to inspect it. It was beyond extravagant - she would never be able to shower with it on. She wouldn't be able to do much at all with it on.

In her other hand, still squeezed tightly into a fist so that it burned its shape into her palm, was Deacon's ring. A simple silver band, nothing much at all, and yet _everything_. She hadn't dared uncurl her fingers, couldn't so much as look at it, she knew she would crumple if she did, but she couldn't let go of it either.

Her lips still tasted of him when she ran her tongue over them.

'Damn you Deacon,' she said, to no one.

She was glad there was no one to see her cry.

#

She gave up on sleep when the birds started singing outside her window. The couch mocked her in how comfortable it was and how _un_comfortable _she_ was, and she gave one last fruitless toss and turn before she threw back the blanket she'd covered herself with and jumped up, suddenly full of energy. Too much energy; she cleaned the kitchen, made every bed in the house, polished every panel in the damn study in some twisted act of masochism, though when she tried to pick apart what she was punishing herself for she only became more agitated and ended up flinging the cloth across the room and going out for a run.

The chilly morning air on her face soothed her some, the light drizzle of rain welcome, and she slowed to a steady pace, peering at the still-dark windows of the huge Belle Meade piles. It helped, until she passed Mrs Winterbourne's house a couple of streets over. As she wondered why on earth anyone would be voluntarily tending to their dahlias at un-Godly o'clock, the old woman waved a jiggly arm in the air and called out to her.

'Mornin' Rayna Jaymes,' she said, and Rayna waved back politely without slowing, but the woman wasn't done. 'Heard your news - fine man, Luke Wheeler. You must be ever so happy.'

Rayna paused, turning back and resting a hand on her hip while she caught her breath. She had no idea what to say, no careful response ready to offer near-strangers who thought they knew her because they'd seen her face in the papers more times than they'd had hot dinners, so she smiled, hoping it looked vaguely genuine.

'Myself, I always thought you'd marry that Claybourne fella. Saw his truck here late last night - come to congratulate you did he?' Mrs Winterbourne continued, chopping at a rogue dandelion with her secateurs, and Rayna's forced smile fell and shattered on the ground. The woman watched her reaction, her expression too knowing, and Rayna backed away, hightailing it down the street without a word.

She ran as fast as she could all the way home and locked the door. It was clearly safer inside.

She was gripped with a sudden panic - how could she leave her house again to face people? There would be so many congratulations, so many of those_ isn't it wonderful?_ smiles. It wasn't that she thought she'd made a mistake accepting Luke's proposal, and it wasn't that she thought the thing to do was to hurl herself into Deacon's arms, even if that was what every cell of her body seemed to want. It wasn't a choice between the two of them, or a decision she felt she needed to make - it was just plain confusion. She had no idea how the hell she felt, about any of it. How would she accept people's good wishes when she didn't even know what she wished for herself? And Mrs Winterbourne, old busybody - how was she up so late curtain-twitching and wide awake before the sun was even fully risen?

Rayna looked around, wondering in all seriousness if the food in the pantry would keep her and the girls going long enough for it all to have blown over. Maybe they could emigrate. Maybe she could get a blonde buzz cut and ditch the rhinestones and no one would recognise her.

'_Come to congratulate you did he?'_

Something like that. Rayna leaned against a cupboard, closing her eyes and letting herself drift for a moment - just a moment - back to his pick-me speech, his breath on her face and a hand in her hair, his other gripping her waist and holding her to him. She couldn't have stepped away from him even if she'd had any desire to do so; he always had that effect on her - she lost her shit every time when it came to Deacon. She was sure beyond all doubt that he could get her to jump off a cliff with him just by turning on that low voice and trailing his fingers across her skin.

And when he kissed her... there was no hope for her, there really wasn't. She'd been kissing him back before she'd even realised what she was doing, and it was too late then, she was completely at his mercy and his tongue was in her mouth and she could feel his strong shoulder flexing underneath her palm.

'Babe?'

The voice startled her, and for a second she had no idea who it was, until a giant bunch of flowers walked through the kitchen door with Luke's head popping out from behind them.

'Hey,' he said, his grin a mile wide, and Rayna's heart thudded in her chest, guilt rushing through her. She stayed rooted to the spot and he eyed her quizzically.

'Little shell-shocked there?' he asked, putting the flowers down on the counter in the exact spot Deacon had had her pinned. She felt like she'd swallowed razor blades, and it took every bit of effort she could muster to wrench herself out of her head and greet Luke when he walked towards her.

'Hey,' she said, letting him wrap her up in his arms and kiss her. It felt strange, almost foreign, but when he pulled back to look at her she saw the warmth in his face. 'Hey,' she repeated with more conviction, and he tightened his hold on her.

'I'm sorry I had to go - I missed you somethin' rotten. But hey, we never have to spend another night apart again,' he said, brushing a strand of hair off her face. 'You made me the happiest man in all the world last night Rayna.'

She watched the way his eyes crinkled as he gazed down at her almost reverently, and something in her stomach fell away.

'I know it seems sudden,' he said, scratchy sincerity in his voice, 'but I just love you, Rayna. I just love you so damn much. I never wanted anything so bad in my whole life as I want you to be my wife.'

She smiled up at him, and the fog in her head receded, her shoulders relaxing. 'I love you too,' she told him, and she did. She loved the way his hand shook just the tiniest bit when he held hers, as though he was still apprehensive about her acceptance - he was so confident, so bold in every part of his life; the only thing she'd seen him insecure about was the reciprocation of his feelings for her. She loved the look of blissful disbelief on his face, like he couldn't quite believe what a lucky sonofabitch he was.

'Those flowers are beautiful,' Rayna said, and when he turned to pick them up and hand them to her, she pulled the diamond ring from the pocket of her jeans and slid it onto her finger. 'Now didn't I hear you say somethin' about pancakes?'


	2. Chapter 2

It had been two weeks, and she hadn't spoken to Deacon at all. Not a phonecall, not a visit. Not so much as a text, from either of them. He was being true to his word, giving her time to answer him, but it was killing her as much as she was relieved. She'd picked up her phone and scrolled to his number so many times she would be ashamed to admit it, but she'd hung up before the dial tone had sounded in her ear.

If denial was a place, Rayna Jaymes would have a suite with her name on.

She'd asked Teddy to drop Maddie off at her guitar lessons and he'd done so without argument, much to her gratitude. Bucky hadn't asked questions when she'd directed him to Luke for the quotes the press were salivating for, and when he'd caught her hand freeze on the radio knob the morning she'd turned it on to hear one of Deacon's songs, he'd merely made her a cup of coffee and closed the door behind him on the way out.

If she'd been evasive, distracted, she'd been lucky with the timing of it all; it could easily be put down to the chaos that had reigned since the night at LP Field. Her album had shot to number 1, and between that and the proposal, the house hadn't been quiet for a single minute. The phone had been ringing off the hook, reporters were camped outside waiting for a glimpse of the happy couple, and she'd been sure to give them a tidbit or two.

A few days after the engagement she and Luke had been out to dinner at a swanky restaurant downtown, followed all the way by no less than twenty motorbikes of baying photographers. They'd made a fleeting appearance at a show Watty was hosting at the Ryman - she'd spent that night terrified Deacon would be there too, and so on edge she'd been that she'd spilled a drink on Luke's shoes, a mishap he'd laughed off good-naturedly, assuming she was just feeling the pressure of having every eye in the place on them. And she was; she felt like a fraud, like if they looked closely enough they would catch her out; maybe Deacon had left the mark of his lips on hers somehow.

The shot of Luke planting a kiss on her cheek as they'd left that night had made the front pages the next day. _Wheeler Put a Ring On It_, the headline read. She'd tossed that one straight in the trash.

She hadn't seen as much of Luke as he'd have liked, her excuse that every bit of PR she did was crucial for Highway 65 and she had to strike while the iron was hot. She'd made sure her schedule was jam-packed with interviews and performances, despite Bucky's careful - and quickly rebuffed - suggestion that she might like a little time to celebrate. She'd played the overjoyed fiancé well in public, her surprise at Luke's sudden proposal genuine, her bashful smiles and coy laughter coming easily, because years of practice does that, gives you a good game face.

On the inside it was a different story.

#

The knock startled Rayna, and she looked at the clock on the mantelpiece: eleven pm. It was dark out, the girls in bed, and she was alone, finishing up some paperwork Bucky had been on at her to look over. The all too fresh image of Deacon pushing past her into her kitchen flashed through her head, vivid and raw, and for a second she sat completely still.

The knock came again. It wasn't Deacon - he would have just let himself in, whether she wanted him to or not.

'I come bearin' gifts,' Luke said when she opened the door, holding up a plastic bag of cartons from her favourite Chinese.

'Tell me there are eggrolls in that bag,' she said, stepping back and letting her eyes follow him as he walked inside. She had told herself there was no decision to be made, that it just wasn't as simple as who to say yes to, that just because Deacon had laid himself bare to her didn't mean everything had changed overnight. It had flipped and switched in her mind anyway. Marry Luke, accept that friendship was it for her and Deacon, they were done; say goodbye to Luke, run as fast as she could to Deacon and let him give her all she'd ever wanted.

Or marry neither, get wasted with Tandy every night and sleep with Liam when he was rolling through town and she wasn't busy washing her hair.

She felt sad, watching Luke pull forks from the cutlery drawer as he chattered in amusement about the paparazzo at her gate who'd asked if he was going to be wearing his hat to the wedding. She shook the feeling away and poured two glasses of wine, moving closer to him and circling his waist with her arms.

'I'm glad you're here.'

'Me too,' he replied, chinking his glass against hers. 'I hope you're hungry.'

Rayna's stomach rumbled right on cue, and she was suddenly unsure when she'd last eaten a proper meal - she hadn't had the biggest appetite the past couple of weeks, and it wasn't surprising that the T-shirt she had on was hanging off one of her shoulders. 'I'm starving,' she said, pulling it up self-consciously. 'I would have made more of an effort if I'd known you were coming over, I must look a fright.'

'Now don't be thinkin' you need to make an effort with me - you've obviously already made more than enough of an impression,' he said, tugging her sleeve back down and kissing her bare shoulder. 'You're more beautiful like this than any other way.'

'Well you're a little biased,' she replied, laughing.

'Maybe I am, but I'm not the only one.'

Rayna swallowed. 'What?'

'The whole world is in love with you, Rayna, I never stood a damn chance of not fallin' like a tonne of bricks. I'm just a poor weak man, after all.' She studied his face for a moment, searching for any hint that he might know something was off, but there was none. She knew how it would make him feel if he did know, if he had any clue that Deacon was consuming her thoughts, just like he had forever ago when Luke had tried - and failed - to win her. The difference was, now he _had _won her.

It didn't mean Deacon was any further from her mind.

'You know,' she said, snapping a pair of chopsticks and trying desperately not to think of anyone but the man in front of her, 'I'd have said yes just for this kung pao chicken.'

#

'I hear congratulations are in order,' came Juliette's greeting as she breezed into the recording studio, letting the door bang shut behind her.

'Hey,' Rayna said, dropping her notepad onto her chair and standing up. Whatever understanding they'd reached recently, accepting Juliette's stiff hug still felt foreign, and they both pulled back a little awkwardly.

'So... that was fast. Have you ever met a man who _didn't_ fall head over ass in love with you?'

'Oh plenty,' Rayna replied, 'all the ones that met you first.'

Juliette smirked, plopping down on the couch. 'Well, like I told you, he's a good one.' She looked at her carefully for a moment. 'Don't mess that up.'

It scared Rayna as much as it pissed her off, how Juliette managed to see right through her, past all the layers she'd crafted to protect herself. But then, Juliette had crafted her own layers, and they were based on everything she'd learned from years of studying Rayna Jaymes. 'Now why would I do that?'

'Oh I think you know why. Tell me, have you seen Deacon?'

She looked away. 'Not in a couple of weeks. How are things with Avery? Have you heard from him?'

'Not a word. Don't think I will be doing any time soon either.' Juliette shifted, pulling her feet up under her. 'Mind if I hang out here with you for a while?'

Rayna paused for a beat before she answered. 'Sure. If you want to...'

'You writin'?'

'Tryin' to. Doesn't seem to be happenin' though.' Rayna picked up her pen, and tossed it right back down. She'd been sat in the studio for hours, partially because it was peaceful - she was hiding, she knew it, but she could at least tell herself she was trying to get something productive out of her retreat. There were so many emotions swirling around leaving her dizzy that she felt the need to deal with them in the only way she knew how - by getting them down on paper.

'You mean you're not overflowin' with look-at-my-seven-carat lyrics?' Juliette asked dryly, and Rayna, despite herself, laughed.

'Did anyone ever get any songwritin' mileage out of happiness?'

'Not in country music they didn't.'

'Ever think we're in the wrong business Julìette?'

'What, you think if we were in the pop industry we'd be less masochistic? I don't think so. Look at Adele.'

Not for the first time in recent weeks, Rayna was glad the little blonde she'd once bristled at the sight of was now in her corner. 'There's tequila in that flask over there. You game?'

#

However busy Rayna had been of late, Tandy had been busier.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Rayna's kitchen looked like a bridal magazine had grown a liver, gone on a bender and thrown up all over it. There were swatches of lace, some silk, chiffon, and catalogues of far-flung designer barns and manor houses with guest capacities in the thousands strewn over every surface. Tandy had shown up with three bags full of crap, and Rayna had tried her best to shoo her back out the door with it all, but it was useless. If there was one thing Tandy loved in life above all else, it was planning a wedding.

'Oh this one is to die for,' she gasped, shoving a glossy page across the counter and rifling through a sample book to locate the exact material the dress in question was made from.

'Did you hold up a fabric store on the way over here?'

'It's a good thing one of us is prepared - you'll be wearing a sack if I don't help you. Now what do you think? Divine, isn't it?' She held the swatch up to Rayna's collarbone, tipping her head this way and that to appraise the colouring on her.

Rayna peered down at the dress. She swatted her sister's hand away. 'That train could herd cattle, Tandy.'

'Oh come on. It's beautiful, and that shade is just perfect on you - _Lily Love._ Isn't that adorable? It does also come in _Bahama Sand_ and _Pure Cloud,_ if you weren't quite sure.'

'Tandy - and forgive me if I'm just plain crazy here - is there any reason I can't wear... just white?'

Tandy stopped what she was doing abruptly and looked at her sister like she'd asked if she could have Taco Bell at the reception. 'Honey,' she said, almost pityingly, 'I think we both know you lost your right to wear _white_ the minute Deacon Claybourne got his hands on you.'

For a second, Rayna was sure she must know, and her mouth dropped open, her face flushing. She realised a second later that Tandy was referring to days gone by, and she ducked her head, suddenly fascinated by an article about gazebos, but not before she caught Tandy's questioning look.

It was lucky Luke chose that moment to walk into the room.

'You runnin' a weddin' planner business out of this here kitchen Tandy?' he asked, surveying the mess and winking at Rayna. 'Should I not be seein' this stuff?'

'She hasn't even _nearly_ made a decision yet,' Tandy said disapprovingly, 'but no, you shouldn't - eyes away.'

'Oh, y'all, it's just a dress,' Rayna said. 'I'm sure you glancing at one of the three thousand my sister has forced me to look at today won't make a difference. In fact - go ahead, share my pain.'

'Don't you dare,' Tandy warned.

Luke leaned over the counter and lifted something from one of the bags. 'And should I not be seeing this, either?' He held up a silk garter, and Rayna gawped.

'Tandy! What in the hell do I need one of those for?'

'It's tradition - you have to have a garter! Everybody knows that!'

Rayna rolled her eyes. 'Oh come on now.'

'Well,' Luke said pleasantly, '_I_ for one greatly appreciate this, even if my fiancè here hasn't set a date for the weddin' she's gonna wear it to yet.' He turned to Rayna and hooked an arm around her waist. 'You any closer to thinkin' about that babe?' he asked, a little cautiously.

'I've just been so damn busy, you know,' she said, kissing him on the cheek and waving her arms in the air. 'This album has taken every brain cell I got goin' for me, and I haven't had a moment for much else.'

'Well, I wanted to talk to you about that subject, as it happens.'

'Oh?'

The front door slammed before Luke had a chance to say anything more, teenage footsteps bounding up the stairs.

'What the...'

'Just leave me alone!' Maddie's voice bellowed, and Rayna rounded the corner in time to see her daughter's ponytail flying out of sight like a white rabbit.

And there he stood.

Deacon, one foot inside the open front door, a helpless look on his face.

'She was upset,' he said unnecessarily, gesturing toward the staircase.

Rayna nodded, her throat too dry to say anything. He was in her favourite shirt, the red plaid one, and she was almost knocked clean over by the intensity of her reaction to seeing him. It was like being away from home for months, missing your own bed every night, and then there you were in it, and the sheets were fresh on and they made you arch your toes and swear there was nowhere in the world you'd rather be.

'What happened?' she asked, trying to manage the overwhelming relief that he was right here in her hallway and that for this moment, even if it was _only_ for this moment, she didn't have to miss him.

However thrown Rayna was by his sudden appearance, Deacon looked sure of himself, calm almost. It struck her that he wasn't nervous about her prolonged deliberation; he was confident in her answer, however long she might take to give it to him. She felt a thud in her stomach.

'Might be best she tells you that Ray,' he said steadily. 'She's havin' a hard time... adjusting to things.'

'Things?'

'Yeah,' he said. 'Things.'

She knew exactly what he meant, and she hated it. Maddie had been more distant since Luke's proposal than Rayna had ever known her, with the exception of the period right after she'd found out Deacon was her father. She'd tried to talk to her, but all she'd managed to extract were a couple of unconvincing assurances that she was fine, that she was happy for her mother and Luke.

Rayna opened her mouth in the hope that something would come out, but Luke appeared in the hallway and she jumped back involuntarily, putting as much distance between her and Deacon as she could without flattening herself against the wall.

'Deacon, come on in buddy,' he said, and before she could stop him, he'd clapped Deacon on the shoulder and was ushering him towards the kitchen. Rayna followed hastily, but it was too late; he surveyed the wedding paraphernalia as she hung back, feeling like she was about to throw up.

He met her eyes from across the room. There was no need for a single word; the look he gave her said everything.

_So you're still marrying him._

She swallowed, the ring on her finger a lead weight.

'Get you a drink Deacon? Water, soda?' Luke asked.

'No, thanks, I really can't stay - I was just droppin' Maddie off.'

'I thought Teddy was doin' that these days.' Luke's cheerful tone betrayed just the smallest hint of tightness. It wasn't lost on Deacon, or on Rayna.

'He got held up at work.' He moved towards the counter, looking at Rayna pointedly as he leaned against it just where she had done that night. She watched as though in slow motion as he picked up the scrap of blue silk that was draped over the edge. He held it up between his fingers, raising an eyebrow at her. 'I see your weddin' plans are comin' along.'

Tandy, sensing the intense awkwardness in the room, put down her glass of Chablis and crossed to Deacon, plucking the garter from him. 'I should probably... put that away.'

Rayna wished she'd burn it.

'I gotta go,' Deacon said, nodding at her and heading towards the hall. 'You should talk to our daughter.'

He closed the door so quietly she didn't even hear him leave.

#

That night, while Luke brushed his teeth with the bathroom door half open, Rayna pulled Deacon's ring out of the place it had lived throughout her entire relationship with Teddy, her mother's jewellery box in the bottom drawer of her bedside table. All those years and it had been right there, right next to where they slept, the third person in their marriage never far from her.

Was that how it was going to be for the next fifteen years too?

She turned it over in her hand a few times, slipping it onto the tip of her finger and no further. It could go no further.

The water in the bathroom stopped, and Rayna put the ring back quickly, easing herself into bed and pulling the covers up.

'I feel like it's been forever since we got some alone time,' Luke said, sliding in next to her and wrapping her in his arms. He smelled of toothpaste and soap, comforting things she knew well. She thought about lying here with Deacon. Being in bed with Deacon smelled like sex and paper, the tang of ink from half-dried words. 'I've hardly seen you since I put this on your finger,' Luke said. She watched as he toyed with the diamond that was sparkling in the light from the lamp on his side of the bed.

'I know,' she said softly. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's okay.' He offered her that smile that made her feel like maybe everything really could be okay. Funny how he could do that.

'No, it's really not okay. I've been burying myself in my work and I...' She stopped, running a hand over his arm. It was time; time to run, or time to stop. It _was_ a decision. 'I love you,' she said.

She better make it fast.

Luke lifted his hand to her face and smoothed his thumb over her cheek. 'I was gonna ask you earlier, but then Deacon showed up, and... I never got the chance.'

'Yeah?'

He looked her in the eye and there it was, the hint of insecurity she'd been trying not to see, that she knew had flared up as he'd watched her face pale when Deacon had left. 'Now we're gettin' hitched an' all, you an' me, and we're gonna be a family... I think we should move in together Rayna.'


	3. Chapter 3

'Hey man,' said Luke, the toe of an expensive boot tapping on Deacon's porch. 'Mind if I come in?'

'Er... sure, yeah.' Deacon stepped aside, holding the door wider and wondering if the visit was out of business or displeasure. He had no idea if Luke knew about his counter-proposal, and he watched him carefully, taking in his tense shoulders and deliberate friendliness.

'What can I do for you Luke? You want coffee? I just put a pot-'

'No, thanks, I'm good. All caffeined out for today. The Mrs wouldn't love me climbin' the walls all night while she's tryin' to get some shut eye.'

There was an awkward silence, maybe only a few seconds, but enough time for Deacon to imagine in great detail Rayna in bed with a caffeine-laced Wheeler. He cleared his throat.

'I er, I asked Rayna to move in with me,' Luke said, faux-conversationally, taking a couple of strides towards Deacon's couch but making no move to sit down.

In the midst of feeling like he'd been kicked in the gut, Deacon wondered why the hell the guy was in his house telling him such information. He considered sitting down himself, in preparation for the next blow - that she said yes. She'd said yes a lot to Luke Wheeler lately.

'She said no.'

He tried, for all of a second, not to let himself hope. It was useless; hope, along with its cousin, fear, bloomed across his chest and made his heart skitter.

Luke studied his reaction. 'She doesn't wanna uproot the girls and unsettle them any further, thinks they've had enough on their plates this year or so.'

Deacon nodded gruffly. Damn right. Maddie did not need another father in her life, and the idea of her living up on that pretentious ranch Luke sprawled about in... The idea of _Rayna_ up there...

'Whatever's best for the girls is what's best for Rayna.'

Luke picked up the framed picture on Deacon's coffee table. 'Whatever's best for the girls...'

He ran a finger over the glass, and Deacon shifted, watching him uncomfortably. That was _his_ family, and he felt no happier about Luke holding a picture of them than he did about him holding Rayna at night. It should be him - it should always have been him.

'So I've asked her to join my tour instead.'

'You've what?'

'If I can't be with her at home, I wanna be with her out on tour. I mean I'm not gonna be at home much the next couple months anyway, so it makes sense for her not to move up to the house 'til we're married. The young 'uns will have got used to things by then.'

'You've asked Rayna to join the tour. Your tour. The one I'm supportin' you on?'

'Yip, that tour. Co-headline is what I've asked her, if we're talkin' specifics.'

Deacon digested this, wary of Luke's reasons for wanting to tell him in person that Rayna could be spending the next two months metres from him.

'So... what'd she say?'

'You better put the toilet seat down on that tour bus, Claybourne. She's in.'

He set the picture down, and Deacon couldn't work out the look on his face. He shoved his hands in his pockets and threw him a smile and a nod of the head as he turned to leave.

'Oh and Deacon?' he said, pausing on the handle. 'I'm not Teddy. Remember that.'

The screen door creaked on its hinges as Deacon stared at the back of his retreating head.

#

'Babe, you can't seriously think this is a good idea. Deacon in the next room every night... don't you think you're playing with fire there?'

'I don't want to talk about it Tandy.'

'Well I know, but I think you _should_ talk to your sister about the fact that you're going to be spending a considerable amount of time sandwiched between your fiance and your... Deacon.'

'No one is going to be sandwiched anywhere Tandy, and I probably won't even see Deacon much- it's a big tour, there are a lot of people.' Rayna lowered her voice, looking pointedly towards the group of women trying to be discreet while they stared at her from the other side of the street peppered with casual shoppers. 'It's fine, just drop it.'

'Why in the world did you say yes to this ?' Tandy hissed. 'I thought you didn't even want to go out on tour right now anyway. What changed your mind?'

Rayna sighed. Tandy was right; she didn't want to go out on tour. She wanted to stay home and work on her label and live out of a closet and not a suitcase, but the disappointment on Luke's face when she'd told him - as gently as she could - that she didn't think it was the right time for them to move in together, that it was too much upheaval for their kids for the moment, had been hard to take. When he'd asked, as a consolation, if she'd go on tour with him instead, she'd panicked.

'Luke changed my mind, I guess. I haven't been around much lately, you know, everything's just been so busy.' She looked down at her feet, trying not to think about how crushed he'd been when she'd told him she couldn't just drop everything to go away for two months. Turning him down twice in one night was not a good feeling. 'It'll be nice, bein' out on tour with him.'

Her sister was quiet for a moment , and Rayna braced herself; a quiet Tandy was even more trouble than a Tandy running her mouth.

'Because it's less of a commitment than moving in with him?'

'I don't know Tandy,' Rayna huffed, throwing her hands in the air. 'Yeah, maybe, somethin' like that - it's a big thing, you know?'

Tandy caught her hand and held it aloft. 'And this isn't?'

The late afternoon sun glinted off the diamond on Rayna's finger, and it blinded her for a second before she yanked herself free.

'Of course it is. I just... I'm not ready to pack up our lives and move, combine our families, everything that comes with it.'

'Will you ever be?'

'You are wearin' me down here - can we please just stop talkin' about this? Look, there are purses on sale, y'all know how you love purses. Let's go in there and have a look.'

She started for the store with its gaudy signs, heavy on the exclamation marks, but Tandy grabbed her elbow and pulled her back. 'There's something you're not telling me, I know it. And I would bet all the purses in Italy on it having something to do with Deacon Claybourne.'

'I said drop it.'

'Is that why Luke wants you with him, so he can keep an eye on you?'

'Why would he want to keep a damn eye on me?'

'Oh come on, he knows your story with Deacon, he wouldn't exactly be crazy if he thought he might just have something to worry about, would he?'

She shoved Tandy off her and spun around, hurrying towards the store in the hope that her sister would stop talking once the smell of expensive leather overpowered her, but she was surprisingly quick on her stiletto heels.

'Would he?'

It had been one question that had changed Rayna's answer about the tour. Maybe it was guilt, certainly it was fear - fear that Luke would look at her and see written across her face all she didn't know how to say, to herself, even.

'It is because of Deacon?' he'd asked.

'No,' she'd told him, a moment too late, and he'd rubbed a hand over his face.

'I might need you to help me believe that, Rayna.'

He wanted her on the road with him to be close to her, there was no doubt of that, but the part of him that doubted her, that doubted himself, wanted to keep them in plain sight, to see for sure that there was no longer anything between them.

'No,' she told Tandy, and she watched her sister's expression change to one she knew well, one of resigned disapproval, pity, almost. 'He wouldn't be crazy.'

#

She dreamed about his hands on her. Not in a sexual way, though there was always - in her sleeping and waking versions of him - something sensual in the way Deacon touched her.

She could feel a hand in her hair, stroking her cheek, her jaw, his fingers smoothing over her stomach and curling around her hip.

She wasn't wearing clothes, suddenly - why did that always happen with Deacon? - and the tips of his fingers were rough, his movements barely there, tickling her skin and making her squirm lazily. He made patterns along her collarbone, traced her sternum, slid his whole hand up her thigh until she shivered and looked up into his face.

'Why is there a wall between us?' she wondered, and her voice had sounded oddly thick, far away.

'There is no wall, Ray,' he replied, gravelly and liquid at the same time.

'Yes there is, this isn't my room.'

It was white, sterile; hotel-impersonal. Music came from somewhere down the hall, the sound of a guitar, faint voices. The air-con whirred them almost inaudible.

'You don't have to go back.'

'We've been here before, in this room. And we burned it down.'

His mouth was wet, soft, when he kissed her, and she forgot what she was trying to say. Something about burning... 'He's not what you want.'

His stubble was just the way she liked it, a couple of days in. She wished he'd brush it over her neck again.

'How do you know?'

'Because I am.'

/

When she woke up, Luke was fast asleep beside her. A half-filled suitcase was next to the bed, her belongings tossed into it untidily.

Rayna watched him for a long time. He was so still, Luke; she wondered, if he were to succumb to sleep on one foot, whether he would wake just so, like a flamingo.

He was what she wanted. He was good, kind, his eyes crinkled when he smiled, and his smiles were for her.

In a world where Deacon didn't exist, Luke Wheeler would be exactly what she wanted.

#

Maddie had been slamming doors since she'd got home from school three hours earlier. Teddy arriving to drop Daphne from her swimming lesson had done nothing to diffuse the situation, and Bucky had politely excused himself when she'd turned on the angry music and refused to come down for dinner.

Rayna managed to plea-bargain her way into her room, footstep by footstep, and standing at the foot of her bed, she was fairly sure her daughter had only relented so that she could yell at her about nothing in particular.

'I don't care that you're marrying him,' she spat eventually, in no context Rayna could identify. 'Do what you want. It's not like it would be any better if you weren't anyway.'

'What does that mean?'

'Even if you weren't with Luke you still wouldn't be marrying Deacon.'

Rayna's mouth dropped open before she could stop it, and Maddie capitalised on her shock and set her jaw. _'Deacon_ is my dad. I want us to be a family, Mom.'

'I thought you liked Luke,' Rayna said weakly.

'I do, he's nice, there's nothing wrong with Luke. He just... isn't Deacon.'

Maddie dropped onto her bed in apparent defeat, and taking it as a sign that her rage was running out of steam, Rayna sat gingerly on the edge.

'I see how you look at each other, you know - I'm not stupid. You're engaged to Luke but every time you're in the same room as Deacon it's like... like there's a big magnet pulling you together.'

Rayna looked Maddie in the eye, and she was struck suddenly and unexpectedly by just how much she looked like Deacon. It was unimaginable that he'd never seen it, that he'd looked at her a hundred thousand times and not _known_ that she was his daughter. Rayna had seen it - of course she had, every time she'd looked at Maddie. It had ripped her apart when she'd been a baby, when she'd rocked her to sleep and her small, sweet face had peered up at Rayna like a neon sign to remind her of all that couldn't be, like Deacon himself was staring back at her. The resemblance had found a place in Rayna's subconscious as Maddie had grown up; her hair grew darker, her eyes more soulful, the line of her mouth more solemn and more Deacon every day, but it had been a necessity, not to feel the pain of their impossible situation every time she looked at their child.

And yet there it was, freshly apparent. His eyes, staring back at her sadly, angrily, from a face that looked like Rayna, too.

'Why now, baby?' she asked softly, taking Maddie's hand and breathing an inward sigh of relief when she didn't pull it away. 'Why is this comin' out like this today? Yesterday you sat and had dinner with Luke, and Daphne and me, and I know you haven't talked to me much since all of this, but yesterday, the day before that, you seemed okay. What's happened today?'

'I heard them talking about you on the radio, about your wedding. They were saying how big it was going to be, how everyone important was going to be there. Everyone except Deacon.'

Rayna opened her arms and Maddie shuffled towards her, the pale pink covers crumpling. She seemed younger, vulnerable, and it hurt like hell.

'Deacon will always be a part of your life, Maddie,' Rayna said in a quiet voice, 'he'll always be a part of both our lives. I'm sorry this isn't how you would want it to be. I'm sorry it's so complicated. I wish it wasn't.'

'Wouldn't it be wonderful? If it _wasn't_ so complicated? If we could wake up and eat breakfast together every morning, and sit and play songs together at night - you and me and Daphne and Deacon?'

_It's Maddie, and Daphne, and you, and me._ A family.

'Yeah, baby,' Rayna said, in barely more than a whisper, 'yeah it would.'


End file.
